


In Unity

by TheBuggu



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Gestalt (Transformers), Gestalt mindset, M/M, Multi, Robutt kissin, adoration, and stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-04
Updated: 2014-09-04
Packaged: 2018-02-16 02:46:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2253036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBuggu/pseuds/TheBuggu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by a prompt from the TFanonkink livejournal. Constructicons/Prowl</p><p>The Constructicons take care of Prowl after he receives a helm injury.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Unity

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, it might seem odd that I don't write fics about them, but in RiD, Constructicons/Prowl are my huuuuuuuge ots (one true sextet instead of pairing hehehehhee)
> 
> I saw this prompt http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/13205.html?thread=14534037#t14534037 and decided to write something! I hope it doesn't disappoint the OP because it's not really NSFW. I thought it would be more fun to write it as fluff.

Prowl didn't remember what caused the injury to his helm. Possibly something or some _one_ hitting him. But he found himself uncaring at the moment of the exact circumstances. The next thing he was aware after passing out from the blow and waking up was that he was currently on a berth. Well, strapped down was a more appropriate choice of words. His servos were held down by bolted slots across his wrists. But, the berth was padded nicely and left his doorwings in a comfortable position.

Prowl's vision was extremely fuzzy and sounds were still muffled. He saw a lot of movement and heard...voices?

He could make out green and purple blobs of colors. He winced and frowned as realization dawned on him. He could feel the bond in his spark. _Their_ bond.

“--wl. How are you feeling?” It was Hook's voice.

He could finally register the words.

Soon his sight followed as well. He confirmed right away with a few glances that his hands were firmly cuffed, to keep him from moving. The Constructions were gathered all around him. So much purple and green.

“What....what's....goin'....onnnn?” Prowl asked. His voice had an unnatural slur to it. He winced again after noticing a large energon i.v. system hooked directly into his arm against the underside plating of his forearm.

“That would be a painkiller I whipped up,” Mixmaster announced with a happy tone and nodded to the setup on his arm. Prowl could feel how impressed he was with his own concoction through the bond. “And it's much a higher strength than what you find in a typical medbay.”

“Yes, Prowl should get only the best,” Hook agreed.

“Let....mee...g-gooo...” Prowl's voice continued to slur more. Despite how groggy he was feeling, his spark was beating erratically in fear. It would pound madly for a few seconds and then subside quickly again. It must have been a side effect of the pain killer, but he felt...paranoid. Like the Constructions had some secret ulterior motive.

And just as fast, he was surrounded again. They must have felt his paranoia through the bond. Prowl was too weak to even attempt to keep his emotions hidden.

“It's alright, Prowl--”

“We're not going to hurt you--”

“Just relax and we'll help--”

He was overwhelmed with how quickly they spoke to him and unbuckled his wrists. He was gently moved into a sitting position, watching as Hook turned and walked away from the berth. When he was released, he fell back directly against Scavenger—who moved behind him and sat on the berth to keep Prowl supported.

Prowl lifted his helm up and looked around with wide optics, confused about what they were planning now. Their bond gave no answers except warmth pushed from them as if trying to comfort him.

Hook returned with a large bucket in his servos.

“Ok, Prowl. We're going to clean you up,” Bonecrusher announced and was the first to dip one arm into the bucket, pulling out a large sponge. The others, except Scavenger, followed suit. Hook placed the bucket of solvent on the berth, in-between his pedes.

Prowl instantly relaxed when a warm sensation of solvent brushed against his armor. Followed by several pats. And it soon spread all over his frame. Hook focused on cleaning his pedes, Long Haul and Bonecrusher gave attention to his arms and doorwings, and Mixmaster moved his sponge up and down across Prowl's chest and abdomen.

Prowl wanted to be so angry and furious and tell them to frag off, but his frame wasn't willing to cooperate with him. It felt so warm...and genuine. He relaxed against Scavenger and produced several, soft sighs.

“He likes it so much,” Scavenger mused and pressed an affectionate kiss against the edge of Prowl's helm, being extremely mindful of the still present dent. “I wish I could see his face right now.”

“He's so beautiful and gorgeous and just so amazing,” Long Haul added wistfully as he moved his sponge across Prowl's doorwing.

“C-caaaareful,” Prowl whined. It was one of his most sensitive areas on his body.

“Don't worry, Prowl,” Long Haul replied and gently rubbed the nub tip of the doorwing.

Despite how groggy he still felt, this made Prowl react with a groan. The Constructions all paused from their work and all responded in sync with dreamy sighs of their own.

“Keep that in mind for future reference,” Hook said with a nod of approval.

The other Constructions all nodded and murmured in agreement.

Prowl, on the other hand, was too impatient and out of it to really care about the impact of their words. He reached his pede down and tried to kick at the bucket of solvent for attention. But...it wasn't more than a light tap to it.

“Someone's fussy,” Mixmaster chided with an affectionate tone. The Construction leaned closer on the berth and placed a light kiss on Prowl's chestplate. Prowl's optics widened and he made a few more of the surprised gasps.

Immediately after, the other Constructions paused from their work once more and all shared glances with each other. A few hushed whispers. Suddenly, Prowl was assaulted with gentle, probing kisses on his frame. On his pedes, his arms, his doorwings. His helm's chevron was twitching madly as he witnessed all the excitement.

And yet, he couldn't stop himself from making appreciative sounds. He pawed at the closest frame to him and made several soft whines. Soon after, Hook brushed his lips against the underside of his leg. On his very sensitive tire treads. Prowl's lips twitched. A snicker of laughter hissed out. He would have felt so embarrassed if not for fact that his painkiller was keeping any decency far from reach. Prowl was not a giggly type. That in itself was so much blackmail material.

The Constructions all froze on point and each made a double take. Their optics were wide and bright and their mouths hanged gaping—at least, those who did have mouths.

“Did he just--?”

“Yes!”

“No way.”

“He has the cutest laugh.”

“He hides it so well.”

Judging from their reactions, none of the Constructions seemed to have any mischievous or malice intentions with what they just heard. If anything, their voices all shared excitement, like new builds who were entertained by the simplest things.

Prowl felt servos slip onto his waist. Scavenger leaned his helm onto Prowl's shoulder. “Oh, Prowl. You're the best. We saw all the twisted things your memories held, but that's only part of the reason we love being a gestalt with you.”

“S-shuuuut up....Not...oooone of you,” Prowl gritted out and blinked slowly.

“Oh, but you are,” Long Haul replied with a sickeningly sweet tone.

Prowl didn't reply. He was too weak and tired. Any anger he was trying to clutch onto was ebbed and sated away through how comforting their bond was and how relaxing it was when the Constructicons resumed scrubbing his frame.

Things were getting blurry again and his optics felt too heavy to remain open. Prowl's frame began to wilt and he sank back against Scavenger.

“Sedative is kicking in, looks like,” Mixmaster explained.

“It's alright, Prowl.”

Someone was holding his servo and patting it in a comforting motion. But his vision was too blurred  to make out who.

They all began to talk again, but to Prowl, it was a mesh of voices and words. He couldn't hear what was being said. It almost reminded him of their bond, if he was trying to ignore it.

A servo was pressed against his face and caressed it for a moment. More words. Prowl felt his lax frame slump and he was lowered down to lay on the berth once more. Prowl blinked one last time before his optics were too tired to open; a signal his frame was demanding more recharge.

He could _feel_ them speaking to him. All at once.

 _Rest well, Prowl_.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was un-beta'd, so please let me know if you see any grammar/spelling mistakes ;w;


End file.
